


Time in a Box

by ByTheAngell (SomeLittleInfamy)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLittleInfamy/pseuds/ByTheAngell
Summary: After walking away from Alexander, Magnus decides to take a moment to reflect on his past, and the people who made him who he is today.





	Time in a Box

**Author's Note:**

> Set just after their fight in 02x18! Written before we saw the box in the show, so the contents were made up based on what he kept in it in the books.

What a person chooses to keep over time says a lot about them. Not the mattress they didn’t replace for a few too many years, or that book they bought but never read; those were the sorts of things that stayed out of convenience, or simply because they became part of the scenery and forgotten in the background as life passed by around them. No, the sorts of objects that someone makes a conscious choice to hold onto, the ones they set aside someplace safe, preserved for the years to come… those are the telling objects in a person’s life.

Every important thing that ever happened to Magnus Bane is told through the objects he keeps in a box on one of his many bookcases, easily overlooked at a glance. Set away for no one other than himself, not to be used for anything in particular, but their existence no less invaluable to him than his own beating heart.

The hilt of a small blade, with the knife crudely removed, the hint of blood stains where the blade would have met the handle. The memory of a mother’s life taken prematurely by her own hand, driven to the act by the thought of giving birth to a being that was not entirely human and the implications that came with that knowledge. The first reaction Magnus ever received to someone finding out he was a warlock, which would seal the way he viewed his own abilities for centuries to come.

A small vial of ashes. The memory of the man he thought to be his father until he learned the truth about what he was, and the man he burned in self-defense after he turned on his son, blaming him for his mother’s death. The memory of the guilt that came with the knowledge that, indirectly and directly, he was responsible for both of them.

A small scrap of parchment-colored fabric from the torn cloak of a Silent Brother - Shadowhunters who took him in, who helped to raise and teach him during his younger years. These were the companions he had who shaped him as parents might, teaching him right from wrong, teaching him the history of what he was. They were stern, but they were kind, and they did more for him than anyone else would… because he had nobody else.

A small sketch on a torn piece of parchment that Magnus knew was drawn by the hand of the one and only Michelangelo, a reminder of all of the kings and queens, artisans, and other figures of import throughout history whose paths he crossed, whose lives he influenced in little (or not-so-little) ways. It was easy, with the power he had and the reputation he built for himself from a young age once he was on his own, to put himself into positions where he would find himself interacting with the best and the brightest throughout the years. Soon enough is reputation began to precede him, and instead of putting himself in the paths of greatness, those people began to call on Magnus instead.

That was when he was young, and still a bit naive of the world. A cream colored ribbon that belonged to a former lover, a vampire of no small importance herself, reminded him of the days he so willingly flirted with the dangers of underground organizations, of black magic and putting his faith in people who didn’t deserve it… his devotion to a woman who could not be loyal to only him in return, and the hurt he faced when that realization hit. That eternal life did not always equal eternal love even where love was once present.

But a faded, worn photograph spoke to those who did warrant his time and attention, the smiling faces of Will and Jem and Tessa looking up at him… and the warlock, once again questioning why he didn’t keep himself closed off to the fragile lives of mortals. It was a lesson he learned time and time again, a deep sorrow he brought upon himself after forgetting just how difficult it was to endure the last time, as if this time might be alright. Might be better.

If he were the type to hoard things, the warlock could’ve filled entire warehouses with items tying to his centuries roaming the earth. But those sorts of things only weighed him down, and he didn’t want to live in a past that he was forced to leave behind. That hurt too much. The few things he did have, trinkets from particularly enjoyable adventures with Ragnor, a recently lost friend he considered among his closest. Other jewels, reminders of adventures gone on across the globe, across the centuries, some with happy endings and others tragic to recall. A small gift given to him from Raphael after he took the new vampire under his wing, fulfilling a promise to himself that he would never allow another Downworlder to journey through this world as lost and alone as he first felt…

...and now another gift, given to him by none other than Alexander Lightwood, current Head of the New York Institute. A small good luck token brought back from one of their dates, he’d kept it on him every day since then. But in these uncertain times, remembering those who came and went from his life, taken naturally and unnaturally, Magnus was reminded that nothing is truly forever. Was this how Alec’s chapter closed for him, just another archived memory in a life full of fleeting, mostly forgotten moments?

Valentine was on the loose, the Shadowhunters could no longer be trusted, and the Downworld was only hurting itself in its division on what to do next. With the Warlocks to protect and his very troubling alliance with the Seelie Queen being the best, and possibly only, option keeping them from extinction, he had much more important things in the present to focus on to be wasting time in the past.

Dropping the omamori onto the top of the pile he wished he could lock away his issues with Alec as easily as he could the charm, doing his best to push them from his mind as he shut the door with a bit more effort than strictly necessary, throwing himself back into his work. The wards wouldn’t keep themselves up, after all, and there were people counting on him.

**Author's Note:**

> (Find me on [Tumblr](http://bytheangell.tumblr.com))


End file.
